Wanderlust Pride
Well, in a couple hours I'm off to California to get my visa for Spain. I'm flying JetBlue (love them) to Long Beach and will be staying through Saturday. I figured, why not take advantage of enjoying the golden sunshine a little longer? My visa appointment is tomorrow morning at 10:30 and lasts for a whopping ten minutes.
I'm so very lucky that I have a place to stay and a new pseudo-mom that is taking me in. Originally, this was supposed to be a road trip with a couple of girlfriends. Splitting gas would've been very cheap three or four ways, and we would've been able to drive down to San Diego and stay with my friends Jen and Jay that I stayed with last Spring Break. Gradually, everyone backed out and I was left in a panic about the entire situation: flying, renting a car, gas, hotel or unsafe hostel in downtown Los Angeles...it would've been around a $600 trip for a couple days, plus my visa fee, plus nerves for going by myself and applying. Somehow in this process, Liz's Aunt Mary friended me on Facebook. She lives near Irvine and generously and sweetly offered to pick me up at the airport and host me, and take me around so we can have adventures together! (I have never been to Los Angeles minus the airport.) Liz and I hosted two of Mary's children when they were driving through cross-country, and Mary said it is the least she could do. I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I spent $250 on a plane ticket and I don't have to worry about driving in Los Angeles, accidents, safety, etc. We're going to explore some museums and the beaches, and just take in the beautiful days. I love traveling like this, meeting people for the first time and developing a friendship over a few days before going back home. I've done this a few times and I just absolutely love it. I think that's why the idea of Couch Surfing appeals to me so much.
What really prompted this journal entry is a mix of emotions, but especially a recognition of the support of my parents. I just posted a status on Facebook saying "Why, hello California! Fancy meeting you here for the next few days!" My dad 'liked' my status. I know that seems like the lamest, weirdest observation, but it means something to me. With that simple thumbs up under my mental stirrings, a flood of thoughts came to me in return. First off, I'm always in some random corner of the country on some sort of adventure. Living at home, I wouldn't have ever just picked up and gone so many places all the time (and in fact, I probably would've somehow felt irresponsible if I would've done so). Trips years ago were carefully planned very far in advance. I felt like if I didn't work all the time, I was being irresponsible. Then I moved across the country to Utah and soon had an amazing paying job, which gave me paid vacation time and money to travel (downside: I had money to travel, i.e., I didn't have money in my savings account because that was a new, exciting thing to have). Soon, trips became more frequent, planned and unplanned. I went home to Michigan once or twice a year as a constant and the rest was always up in the air. Washington D.C., San Francisco, New Orleans, Baltimore, West Virginia, San Diego, New York City for a week, New York City for 24 hours, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Southern Utah, Wendover for no reason (is there ever a reason?), long road trips all over Utah, cross-country 32-hour drive with a complete stranger, all the New England states in a single two week trip, and the list goes on. Every time, with exception of the trips home and the New England trip when I was with them, I found myself calling my parents from some new foreign city, just to tell them I'm okay, or to keep myself company while sitting alone in an airport. Somehow, talking to them on the phone let me feel like I'm sharing the experience with them since they don't fly anywhere and only drive. I get a chance to let them in to the random functioning of my wanderlust brain and somehow I think they can understand me a little more. Most of all, when I share those moments with them, I feel that they are proud of me. Not because I'm munching on a $6 bag of Cheez-It crackers while reading an airport-purchased Stephen King book and listening to CNN, surrounded by data-immigrant business men in a stuffy airport, but because I'm living my life.
The next adventure after this visa trip and going home in August will be flying to Madrid, Spain. I won't be able to call my parents during that trip, as I will leave my cell phone at my home here in Utah and won't have communication until I get a cell phone in Spain. I still don't know how I feel about Spain. It is a pretty strange situation...looking back on journals from up to seven or eight years ago, I write about study abroad in Spain, and it never happened. I always had a desire to go to South America, not Spain, but in college I started desiring to see Spain. I think the Moorish culture of Southern Spain really attached to me, and combined with many little things (such as the fact that it is on the Mediterranean, and I really cherish my Sicilian heritage, which also shares the same seawater lapping it its shores) I all of a sudden had this hunger to see Spain, to experience it.
I'm not sure if I'm just trying to protect myself and tell myself it isn't as 'magical' as everyone thinks so I won't be disappointed, but I've lost a big desire to go. Since the beginning, I've not been sure of going, but I chose the Oviedo Exchange program because it gave me the option to stay with a host family. I 100% believe in staying with a host family so as to learn the language the best and most effectively. But every now and then I get questions in the form of knots in my stomach, and I can't tell if they are anxiety or a big fat 'no'! The last journal I wrote was about speaking Spanish to myself in the park. On that night, for the first time, I asked deeply about going to Spain. A few days later, I still wasn't sure, and I felt a bit uneasy. Again, I wasn't sure if it was nerves, anxiety, or counsel. I find many road bumps that I've stumbled over trying to go on this program...denial of grant money, grades not entered properly the first time and worrying I can't get scholarships (they're fixed and my GPA is where it should be now), and so many others. Each time, I find myself following through on a decision to keep this ball rolling...enrolling in summer classes so I can try for grants again, following up with teachers, making a visa appointment anyway, nervously 'begging' my parents to write a notarized letter to help me get my visa, etc. The steps feel right to take, but I can't imagine myself getting on the plane on August 28, and I can't see myself happily talking to new Spanish friends on campus in Oviedo. Then again, I couldn't imagine myself graduating from High School or other life landmarks (or graduating from college for that matter!), so surely the only answer is I'm going to die before they happen(ed), or that I don't deserve for these dreams to because realities. Surely life is supposed to be a constant struggle and battle for anything that I think I want, because what I want is never in line with a Higher Purpose for my life. That's how my mind thinks. Twisted, isn't it?
When my dad 'liked' my status, I felt joy. He has always questioned why on earth I'm such a Humanities person...why I love to travel, learn languages, and anything else involved. I was immature when I lived back home and he felt I wasn't ready for school. I think he was right...I was too concerned with social acceptance, and my ending GPA at NMU was something like 2.3. Now, I've got a 3.7 at the University of Utah. I've taken all the classes that coincide with my interests...languages, linguistics, anthropology, archaeology...but I can tell he's proud of me. He's never been one to vocalize it to me, but he's a bragger to his friends. Also, he agreed to write a notarized letter accepting financial responsibility for me (a loophole to get a visa). When I opened the letters they mailed to me, I saw that both of my parents signed it. This meant a LOT to me...a joint effort from both to show me that while they cannot provide me with temporal things, they give me their trust and support. They support my study abroad, they support my choice to major in Spanish, they support the choices I make for myself, and trust that I make those decisions prayerfully and logically. Dad 'liking' my status means he likes that I'm in California, and I'm there for a reason: to get my visa for Spain. Maybe I'm over-analyzing and I get way too much out of a thumbs up, but it really is meaningful to me.
Hopefully over the course of the next month, it will be clear to me if Spain is the path I really should take, and that I can drop all anxieties (known or unrealized) and step out of my comfort zone like I used to.
I'm so very lucky that I have a place to stay and a new pseudo-mom that is taking me in. Originally, this was supposed to be a road trip with a couple of girlfriends. Splitting gas would've been very cheap three or four ways, and we would've been able to drive down to San Diego and stay with my friends Jen and Jay that I stayed with last Spring Break. Gradually, everyone backed out and I was left in a panic about the entire situation: flying, renting a car, gas, hotel or unsafe hostel in downtown Los Angeles...it would've been around a $600 trip for a couple days, plus my visa fee, plus nerves for going by myself and applying. Somehow in this process, Liz's Aunt Mary friended me on Facebook. She lives near Irvine and generously and sweetly offered to pick me up at the airport and host me, and take me around so we can have adventures together! (I have never been to Los Angeles minus the airport.) Liz and I hosted two of Mary's children when they were driving through cross-country, and Mary said it is the least she could do. I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I spent $250 on a plane ticket and I don't have to worry about driving in Los Angeles, accidents, safety, etc. We're going to explore some museums and the beaches, and just take in the beautiful days. I love traveling like this, meeting people for the first time and developing a friendship over a few days before going back home. I've done this a few times and I just absolutely love it. I think that's why the idea of Couch Surfing appeals to me so much.
What really prompted this journal entry is a mix of emotions, but especially a recognition of the support of my parents. I just posted a status on Facebook saying "Why, hello California! Fancy meeting you here for the next few days!" My dad 'liked' my status. I know that seems like the lamest, weirdest observation, but it means something to me. With that simple thumbs up under my mental stirrings, a flood of thoughts came to me in return. First off, I'm always in some random corner of the country on some sort of adventure. Living at home, I wouldn't have ever just picked up and gone so many places all the time (and in fact, I probably would've somehow felt irresponsible if I would've done so). Trips years ago were carefully planned very far in advance. I felt like if I didn't work all the time, I was being irresponsible. Then I moved across the country to Utah and soon had an amazing paying job, which gave me paid vacation time and money to travel (downside: I had money to travel, i.e., I didn't have money in my savings account because that was a new, exciting thing to have). Soon, trips became more frequent, planned and unplanned. I went home to Michigan once or twice a year as a constant and the rest was always up in the air. Washington D.C., San Francisco, New Orleans, Baltimore, West Virginia, San Diego, New York City for a week, New York City for 24 hours, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Southern Utah, Wendover for no reason (is there ever a reason?), long road trips all over Utah, cross-country 32-hour drive with a complete stranger, all the New England states in a single two week trip, and the list goes on. Every time, with exception of the trips home and the New England trip when I was with them, I found myself calling my parents from some new foreign city, just to tell them I'm okay, or to keep myself company while sitting alone in an airport. Somehow, talking to them on the phone let me feel like I'm sharing the experience with them since they don't fly anywhere and only drive. I get a chance to let them in to the random functioning of my wanderlust brain and somehow I think they can understand me a little more. Most of all, when I share those moments with them, I feel that they are proud of me. Not because I'm munching on a $6 bag of Cheez-It crackers while reading an airport-purchased Stephen King book and listening to CNN, surrounded by data-immigrant business men in a stuffy airport, but because I'm living my life.
The next adventure after this visa trip and going home in August will be flying to Madrid, Spain. I won't be able to call my parents during that trip, as I will leave my cell phone at my home here in Utah and won't have communication until I get a cell phone in Spain. I still don't know how I feel about Spain. It is a pretty strange situation...looking back on journals from up to seven or eight years ago, I write about study abroad in Spain, and it never happened. I always had a desire to go to South America, not Spain, but in college I started desiring to see Spain. I think the Moorish culture of Southern Spain really attached to me, and combined with many little things (such as the fact that it is on the Mediterranean, and I really cherish my Sicilian heritage, which also shares the same seawater lapping it its shores) I all of a sudden had this hunger to see Spain, to experience it.
I'm not sure if I'm just trying to protect myself and tell myself it isn't as 'magical' as everyone thinks so I won't be disappointed, but I've lost a big desire to go. Since the beginning, I've not been sure of going, but I chose the Oviedo Exchange program because it gave me the option to stay with a host family. I 100% believe in staying with a host family so as to learn the language the best and most effectively. But every now and then I get questions in the form of knots in my stomach, and I can't tell if they are anxiety or a big fat 'no'! The last journal I wrote was about speaking Spanish to myself in the park. On that night, for the first time, I asked deeply about going to Spain. A few days later, I still wasn't sure, and I felt a bit uneasy. Again, I wasn't sure if it was nerves, anxiety, or counsel. I find many road bumps that I've stumbled over trying to go on this program...denial of grant money, grades not entered properly the first time and worrying I can't get scholarships (they're fixed and my GPA is where it should be now), and so many others. Each time, I find myself following through on a decision to keep this ball rolling...enrolling in summer classes so I can try for grants again, following up with teachers, making a visa appointment anyway, nervously 'begging' my parents to write a notarized letter to help me get my visa, etc. The steps feel right to take, but I can't imagine myself getting on the plane on August 28, and I can't see myself happily talking to new Spanish friends on campus in Oviedo. Then again, I couldn't imagine myself graduating from High School or other life landmarks (or graduating from college for that matter!), so surely the only answer is I'm going to die before they happen(ed), or that I don't deserve for these dreams to because realities. Surely life is supposed to be a constant struggle and battle for anything that I think I want, because what I want is never in line with a Higher Purpose for my life. That's how my mind thinks. Twisted, isn't it?
When my dad 'liked' my status, I felt joy. He has always questioned why on earth I'm such a Humanities person...why I love to travel, learn languages, and anything else involved. I was immature when I lived back home and he felt I wasn't ready for school. I think he was right...I was too concerned with social acceptance, and my ending GPA at NMU was something like 2.3. Now, I've got a 3.7 at the University of Utah. I've taken all the classes that coincide with my interests...languages, linguistics, anthropology, archaeology...but I can tell he's proud of me. He's never been one to vocalize it to me, but he's a bragger to his friends. Also, he agreed to write a notarized letter accepting financial responsibility for me (a loophole to get a visa). When I opened the letters they mailed to me, I saw that both of my parents signed it. This meant a LOT to me...a joint effort from both to show me that while they cannot provide me with temporal things, they give me their trust and support. They support my study abroad, they support my choice to major in Spanish, they support the choices I make for myself, and trust that I make those decisions prayerfully and logically. Dad 'liking' my status means he likes that I'm in California, and I'm there for a reason: to get my visa for Spain. Maybe I'm over-analyzing and I get way too much out of a thumbs up, but it really is meaningful to me.
Hopefully over the course of the next month, it will be clear to me if Spain is the path I really should take, and that I can drop all anxieties (known or unrealized) and step out of my comfort zone like I used to.